


The Space in Between

by Avdal



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Death Threats, Dubious Consent, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Loss of Virginity, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Obsessive Kylo Ren, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reylofest, Smut, Stalking, Tags Are Hard, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, Virginity Kink, blowing stuff up, dirty tricks, part of a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 00:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avdal/pseuds/Avdal
Summary: When it feels like the end of the world, there’s only one thing left to do.





	The Space in Between

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Reylofest 2017. You can find the whole collection at [Reylofest](http://reylofest.tumblr.com/). There are 14 stories and 4 lovely peices of art and I was so happy and honored to be able to take a part in this project!

Even in the middle of a fierce battle, with both their lightsabers crossed and sparking, Kylo was still hell bent on swaying Rey over to his side.

 

He had ambushed her within seconds of her coming out of hyperdrive and commencing orbit. Somehow, he’d known exactly when and where to find her. He shouldn’t have been able to at all. The planet that they were circling was remote, uninhabited, and so far from any other form of civilization that the Resistance had taken an interest in it as a potential secret base.

 

No one, let her repeat that, _no one_ , besides her and General Organa were supposed to know the coordinates. And yet, here he was. Aboard her ship. Or rather his own father’s ship.

 

He had tracked her, stalked her, and managed to not only board the Falcon but also severely damage its navigation array in the process. Which left her with plenty of free time on her hands now to defeat him and then promptly hurl him out of an airlock for causing her so much trouble.

 

To say that she hadn’t been pleased to see him had been an understatement. Their initial conversation had been brief, and the start of their battle swift.

 

Now they were locked together. Dodging and swiping and countering each other’s every move so skillfully that she might as well have been fighting with her own reflection in a mirror.

 

“What do you hope to prove by this, Kylo?”

 

She flips, switching their blade-lock from in front of her to behind. They could be at this for hours, but she wants to know his answer regardless.

 

“You claim to be one with the Force, and yet you hate its finest work,” he follows her line of thought as effortlessly as he follows her movements. “Do you not see the hypocrisy in that? Or has your mind already been so corrupted by the dead ideologies of a fool?”

 

Gods he likes to hear himself talk.

 

And he’s referring to her master. Kylo was always good at getting under her skin, but few things anger her as much as when he insinuates that Luke Skywalker is failing her.

 

“Kriff off!” she growls, leaping backwards and onto a console to gain the higher vantage. “And our Bond is a monstrosity, I should have never said otherwise!”

 

She feigns a wide sweep to behead him and, when he ducks, she transforms it into a leaping somersault designed to land right on his sternum and knock him to the ground. He’s faster though, and dodges with a graceful flourish. Then he tries to pluck her out of her mid-air leap with a surge of the Force.

 

Pathetic. Learning to block such elementary maneuver was one of the very first things her master had taught her. And he had taught her very well. She’ll be sure to bring that up later, just to rub it in a little. But now, she’ll use his outstretched arm to her advantage.

 

She grabs his wrists and pulls him towards her rather than away. He hadn’t been expecting that and he stumbles, allowing her to aim her knee right for that tender weak spot in his armor just below his floating ribs.

 

And she promptly gets thrown across the room with a sudden controlled blast of Force.

 

“Pay attention.”

 

He sounds pissed, or maybe that’s just from the ringing in her ears when she hit the solid metal wall of the main corridor.

 

And then he’s practically on top of her, swinging his saber towards her neck in a slow and deliberately avoidable arch.

 

She growls out an insult, gritting her teeth tightly together because _how dare he_ go easy on her...

 

Their next lock is a quick succession of parries and dodges as he slowly pushes her farther and farther down the hallway.

 

“You can do better than this.”

 

His taunt irritates her, and she finally gives in and curls the Force around a piece of heavy equipment. At the start of her training, lifting it would have been a challenge, but now she can throw it at him effortlessly and win back a little breathing room.

 

“You’re really trying to make me trash my own ship, are you, you-?”

 

She stumbles on both her words and her own feet. It’s hard to come up with an appropriate insult to summarize Kylo Ren but also not insult his mother at the same time.

 

“Your ship?” he scoffs. “Hardly.”

 

Kylo switches tactics, moving from a heavy and powerful style to a much faster sequence of crisses and slashes that have her scrambling to use their connection just to keep up with the new pace.

 

Okay, maybe they had just been warming up before. Now he’s taken it up a notch and she’s left darting backwards into the first open room behind her.

 

Oh great, it’s the engine room. This has the potential to end very poorly.

 

Kylo gracefully dodges her next attack and parries it with a swift swipe of his own that would have landed on the armored shoulder plate of her new uniform if she hadn’t already danced back to the opposite side of the oppressively hot room that now serves as their new battlefield.

 

“Damnit Kylo, we shouldn’t be doing this in here! It’s a kriffing _engine room!_ ”

 

Doesn’t the fool have any idea how dangerous this is?

 

He doesn’t answer. Probably doesn’t care. Instead, he circles quickly around the central column. Trying to cut off her route of escape.

 

Rey bluffs to the left but rolls right, trying to open up an exit route to take their party anywhere else but here.

 

Kylo has the nerve, the _nerve_ , to hurl a piece of shrapmetal into her path, nearly decapitating her if she hadn’t been so quick. The metal is pinned across the door with the power of the Force and a slash of his saber temporarily welds it into place, effectively trapping them both in here.

 

“Stop trashing my ship!” she howls again, frustration bubbling up and making her sloppy.

 

It gives him an opening and he takes advantage of it by kicking her feet out from under her. Tripping her. That’s what he chooses to do. Not a possibly deadly lightsaber blow to her torso or a crippling wound to her limbs.

 

“This ship should never have belonged to you. I would have given you something far better.”

 

Somehow he manages to be both possessive and dismissive. Rey has long since given up trying to understand how his addled mind actually works.

 

He lunges to grab her and she kicks him square in the chest, sending him stumbling. Then she kicks up back onto her feet, readying herself for round two.

 

“Still trying to win me over, Kylo? Are you that delusional?” she jumps back, deflecting his attempts to seize her with the force with a sharp flick of her own power. “Or have you-” she thrusts her saber towards his legs, hoping to at least partially disable him, “or have you finally realized that you’re an unlovable monster and nothing you ever do will redeem yourself from that?”

 

It’s a brutally low blow and Rey feels a twinge of regret as son as the words leave her mouth. But she needs this fight to end right now, before he destroys something critical in _her_ ship. If distracting him is what it takes to win, then she’ll do it.

 

He howls at her in response. It’s a fierce, terrifying sound and she wonders if perhaps she went too far.

 

Then he surges forwards, cutting and hacking at everything that gets in his way. If he had been pulling his punches before, he’s certainly not anymore.

 

Each blow comes faster and more aggressively than the last. Is he actually trying to hurt her now? He’d always been restrained in his moves against her, but now she doesn’t think that he’s holding back at all.

 

Kylo Ren at his full force of anger is intimidating, to say the least. For the first time in a long while, Rey feels a little afraid of him.

 

It’s a feeling that only grows when she parries a particularly strong attack that would have sliced her arm clean off if her reflexes weren’t so fast. Instead, the clashing of their two beams of energy reverberates across her whole body. It makes her arm numb and she nearly drops her lightsaber before she drops back and gives up her higher ground, fleeing to the far side of the small room.

 

“Get back here right now!” he shouts as she darts away, wasting no time in pursuing.

 

She effortlessly leaps over the shards of vivisected furniture and equipments panels that now litter the floor of the Falcon’s engineering bay, feeling the crackling heat of his weapon pricking across her skin as he closes the distance.

 

A shower of sparks rain down across them both as he cuts through a line of electrical cables. _That_ really pisses Rey off. She turns, spinning on her heel, and he immediately pounces. He slams against her, both of their blades holding death off in a now bitterly familiar cross.

 

“Are you _actually_ trying to kill us both, Kylo?”

 

Her skin is littered with electrical burns and, in the background, she can see two warning lights go on. The kriffing idiot in front of her must have actually severed something important.

 

“I’ve given you a million chances, Rey,” he pushes harder, trying to knock her off balance. “You should have listened to me!”

 

He had taken his helmet off earlier, when he’d first boarded her ship and had tried to converse with her, but now she wishes he had kept it on. It would have made it easier to accept this change of his nature.

 

She shoves him off her with a push of the Force then turns to run and take this fight out of the engine room to a less critical part of the ship, readying her lightsaber to hack and slash her way through the panel he had fused to block her path.

 

Kylo catches her, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back and it’s only her quick instincts and connection to a higher power that prevents her from being impaled on his saber. Instead, she twists at the last moment, and her arm gets gashed by one of the the crossguards. She cries out, half in pain and half in shock that he would actually have the audacity to hurt her.

 

“How dare you!” she shrieks, shoving her sudden burst of pain into his own mind through their bond.

 

It makes him falter, face flickering with something other than berserk rage for a flash, and she yanks herself free.

 

The lights in the room flicker off than back on and a warning chime adds in to the background of their fight.

 

“You _IDIOT_!” she shouts, swiping in a grand arch as realization dawns over her. “You cut through the central power line! Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to fix that!”

 

He draws his saber up again, falling back into a fighting stance.

 

“I swear to you, Rey, that if you call me anything other than Master ever again you will regret it for a very short amount of time.”

 

It’s an empty threat. Or is it? Rey is too furious at him to bother reading between the lines.

 

“No, Kylo. You’re a _monster_ ,” she spins into a kick, trying to knock his weapon out of his hands, “and I will never let you forget that!”

 

It’s the second time she’s called him that word, and it’s the second time he overreacts to it.

 

Rey can see what’s about to happen a moment before it actually does. The shock of it stalls her, and then she’s just a nanosecond too late to stop it. Kylo dodges her next move, sweeping his saber forward in a chaotic arch. She counters back, throwing her full weight into the move and… his blade pieces through the shielding around the engine’s reactor core, slicing straight through it like it was nothing.

 

It sends a hail of sparks flying to every corner of the room. So many and so intense that it stops them both mid-fight as they duck and roll for cover.

 

Then, as abruptly as the frantic chaos had started, everything suddenly stops and the room falls silent. The reactor is automatically shut down by a safety override and it’s the only thing that keeps them from being instantly blown apart. Incinerated or detonated or simply vaporized or whatever a catastrophic engine core failure was supposed to do.

 

And, to add insult to injury, the lights turn off as well.

 

Only the glow of their lightsabers illuminates Kylo’s shocked and bug-eyed expression as they both take in the reality of what just happened.

 

“Did you...” Rey struggles to find the right words. “Did you just _destroy_ the engine? Did you really just do that?”

 

The words would sound more accusatory if she wasn’t still so stunned.

 

“It’s not destroyed.”

 

His voice is flat. Rey sweeps her saber around, casting a blue glow over the floor of the absolutely wrecked room.

 

Yes… yes he did.

 

She still can’t believe it. Her mind not quite catching up to what her eyes are telling her to be true.

 

“Did you...” her voice falters for a second as she blinks twice. “Did you just _destroy_ _my godsdamn engine on my own goddamn kriffing ship?!!_ ”

 

He stares back, face blank.

 

No, not _blank_. Rey takes a step towards him, bringing her saber up again so she can scrutinize the hint of an expression that’s building between his brows.

 

Guilt. He looks _guilty_.

 

“Kylo… did you do something? When you first _invaded_ my ship, did you do something to it?”

 

Because emergency power should be on. But it’s not. But when he landed- more like forcibly collided his own ship into hers- he had struck exactly where the backup-

 

“Kylo...” she has to close her eyes and take a deep, deep breath.

 

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t have to.

 

“Kylo,” she tries again, forcing the words out through tightly gritted teeth. “I’m going to try and fix this. And if I can’t… I’m going to kill you. For real, this time.”

 

He frowns. Stays quiet for a long time. Long enough that she manages to pull her temper and growing fear back in line so she can open her eyes and glare at him.

 

“Fair enough,” he finally says.

 

And it is. And she means it. Because for now they may be at a truce, but as soon as she gets her ship back on line they have some serious business to attend to.

 

*

 

“ _Critical system failure detected.”_

 

The automated mechanical voice breaks Rey’s concentration and she hurls her tool down in frustration.

 

“Can’t you turn that damn thing off?” she shouts, raising her voice both out of pure anger and so that she can be heard over the latest warning alarm to go off.

 

What’s the opposite of a silver lining? Rey doesn’t know the word for it, but whatever it is, is what happened when she managed to get the backup emergency power back on.

 

It had been the only thing she _could_ fix, and it had the completely contradictory effect of making their situation worse by informing her at an escalating rate of exactly how shit out of luck they were.

 

Another warning chime. This one requesting that any remaining crew evacuate immediately.

 

She stomps back to the engine room, kicking aside pieces of debris and loose paneling as she goes. Kylo follows her like a hulking, murderous shadow and he’s worse than useless because he not only is ineffective at repairing things but now he’s actively getting in her way.

 

Yeah. Evacuating would have been a fantastic idea, had it been even an option. Piercing the engine core had triggered a chain reaction of damage throughout the already battered ship. Causing critical to catastrophic failures of all major ship systems.

 

Literally they were adrift in space. And, of course, without proper containment on their engine there was only one outcome and it would happen sooner rather than later.

 

Not if she can do anything about it. Which she can’t. But that’s besides the point.

 

“Get the fuck out of my way.”

 

She shoves him hard in the center of his chest, making him stumble, and she snatches the tool he’d been carrying from out of his hands.

 

“Rey… I want to help.”

 

“ _Critical system failure imminent.”_

 

Thanks for the obvious, phantom voice.

 

She ignores him completely. Turning instead to the engine’s containment housing. She had looked at this a thousand times already, or at least it felt that way, but there was nothing…

 

There has to be something. There _has to be_.

 

Rey wants to scream. Or cry. Or do both.

 

Instead, she growls. Attempts to make a pointless repair and fails at even doing that much. Frustration boils over in her and she slams the tool down over the console and then scrunches her eyes closed.

 

“Rey.”

 

A hand grabs her shoulder. She slaps it away but he hovers close. Kneels down next to her legs and stares at the mangled equipment. The thing that he carelessly destroyed and thereby sealed their own fate.

 

“ _Emergency evacuation code triggered.”_

 

Why the hell does the Falcon even have emergency protocols when it doesn’t have proper escape pods? Or maybe once it did, but Kylo’s idiotic father probably sold them or did some other cockbrained scheme where-

 

“Is everyone in your kriffing family as useless as you or does it just follow the Y-chromosomes?!”

 

Rey can _feel_ Kylo’s thoughts, how he’s very gently trying to tell her that he had determined that his would be a 1-way trip to her and he never had a contingency plan if crashing into the Falcon turned out to be a poor idea.

 

“ _Core containment reaching critical failure.”_

 

A million different thoughts race through her mind all at once. She buries her face in her hands and tries to calm down. The persistent alarms make it impossible. She’s really going to die out here, isn’t she?

 

She doesn’t want to die. Of course she doesn’t. Especially not like this and _especially_ not now. Not when there’s so much that she hasn’t done yet. She hasn’t become a Jedi. Hasn’t saved the galaxy as her true destiny demands. Hasn’t fallen in love.

 

_I don’t want to die a virgin._

 

The thought had fluttered through her mind in an instant. A brief counter gust of wind in the turbulent storm of her emotions. She hadn’t paid it any attention, truly. Far too focused on not thinking about what was about to happen to even consider what _could_ happen.

 

Kylo, on the other hand, had latched on tight to the notion. Snatched the flash of regret out of her head and clung to it like a limpet.

 

“You’re a _virgin_.”

 

He says it so strangely. With such an out of place tone that Rey pauses in her mental panic to give him the side-eye.

 

How is it possible that now _of all times_ Kylo would find something so trivial to get distracted by?

 

“Yeah. What the kriff about it?” she snaps, already so over dealing with him. At least death will bring her peace from Kylo’s lunacy.

 

He drops the tool in his hands and rises up to his feet, towering over her. Rey can barely hear the sound of it clattering on the metal floor over the constant shrill of dozens of catastrophic alarms blaring.

 

It’s not like he was doing anything useful with the tool anyhow. Kylo was apparently adapt at only destruction and pretty much utterly useless at repairing things. Proof of his spoiled, entitled life that he could just rely on someone else to fix the fallout of his temper tantrums.

 

Fine, if he’s not going to bother saving their lives, she might as well-

 

She reaches down to grab the instrument and try to fix the damn console herself, even though she had already admitted it was a useless gesture, when he catches her arm.

 

“ _What_?!” she hisses again, growling up at him.

 

“We can’t fix it, Rey. The ship is going to explode no matter what we do.”

 

“I know, okay? _I know that_. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to not do everything that I can.”

 

He nods, but doesn’t let go of her arm. Instead he stares at her with such an intensity the has to look away. He clearly has something on his mind, but he refuses to just come out and say.

 

“Rey...”

 

The hand around her arm tightens, his thumb rubbing her bicep in circles.

 

She had been trying to pull herself free but now she stops dead in her tracks. No… he can’t possibly-

 

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me, Kylo.”

 

There has literally has not been a single moment in Rey’s entire life where she felt less like fooling around. Especially with him, considering that only a matter of minutes ago they were locked in a life and death sword fight.

 

At least that’s what it had been from her side of things, but now she’s starting to have doubts about why he was really here on her ship to begin with.

 

It’s an ugly, lurking suspicion that only grows with how he can’t stop looking at her mouth. Gaze flashing frequently to her eyes, then always back to her lips.

 

“Rey…” his voice is simultaneously soft but strained. “We don’t have much time left.”

 

He reaches out to cup her face. She watches as the bump in his neck bobs up and down as he swallows. They’re in the middle of dying- dying because he killed them both- and he’s still too nervous to just come out and say it. Say that he wants to… she doesn’t want to actually think the words.

 

His hand drifts lower, sliding behind her head and pulling her gently towards him.

 

Okay. Time to put a stop to this _right now_.

 

“Let go of me you psycho,” she slaps his hand away. Should slap him right across his face.

 

“Rey.”

 

Every part of him is imploring, from his sad eyes to the parting of his lips. She stares at them for a second before collecting herself.

 

No. No, he doesn’t get to do this. Not ever and certainly not _now_.

 

“Go away, Kylo. That’s an order. I’m ordering you to go find some part of the ship where you can die without me having to look at you.”

 

She doesn’t mean it. He must know that because he smiles. Now, in the midst of battle and death, he smiles. The rare and sad Ben Solo smile that she’s only ever seen in her dreams or on old holovids. Somehow the awkward and boyish expression fits perfectly with the man he’s become. It must be all the glowing red lighting surrounding them as the auxiliary power system starts to fail too and all they’ll soon be left with is the battery-running emergency lights.

 

“Rey... let’s not fight anymore.”

 

He reaches out again and strokes her cheek. She frowns at it but with the electricity flickering on and off like this it’s not as if she has a hope or prayer of getting anything fixed anyhow.

 

This is all his fault. Entirely his fault. Him and that broken lightsaber piece of junk and his short to non-existent temper control.

 

“Please,” he tries again.

 

Her own patience jumps its reigns. She yanks free of his grasp and turns away. Throwing the tool in her hand against a far wall and kicking the useless console just for good measure.

 

“We’re minutes away from dying horribly, and you’re begging me for sex? Is that what’s really going on, Kylo, or did I already die and this is just the twisted version of hell that awaited me?”

 

She starts to stomp away, tripping over a loose piece of debris as a minor per-explosion shakes the whole ship and makes her lose her footing.

 

Kylo is right behind her, of course. Catching her and wrapping her up tightly in his arms.

 

“We don’t have much time left,” he repeats. It’s so unnecessary that shakes her head in disbelief. Struggles to make him let her go.

 

“I _know_ that.”

 

She stomps on his foot and he holds her tighter. Given how her recent luck has been playing out, probably the reinforced toe of his boots kept him from even feeling it.

 

“We can make it work, Rey. We just can’t waste anymore time.”

 

The idiot, the _kriffing idiot_ , doesn’t seem to understand that not only is she furious at him, but maybe arguing that they have to hurry up and get it on isn’t exactly alluring.

 

Because there’s nothing that a virgin wants more than a promise for a quick and highly expedited runthrough on a thrash-strewn floor.

 

The auxiliary lights turn off, plunging them into darkness for a second until the dim battery lights fill in their place.

 

“It’s too dark to see anything,” Rey says weakly, feeling utterly defeated.

 

She could have demanded he hold a light while she tries to make a last-ditched effort to repair the engine shielding, but last-ditch has already failed.

 

It’s too late. It’s just… over. There’s nothing more that she can do.

 

“ _Catastrophic failure eminent,”_ that awful crackling mechanical voice warns through the speakers, confirming everything that they both knew.

 

She squeezes her eyes hut. Feels his breath on her sweat and tear dampened skin as he leans closer.

 

“I don’t want to die alone,” he whispers.

 

His words threaten to break her. No one ever wants to die alone. She shouldn’t be dying at all. _Neither_ of them should be.

 

Rey doesn’t know what to do. Nothing. There’s nothing she can do anymore.

 

She feels him press his lips to her cheek, blotting the track of her fresh tears. He must be able to sense how her resolve weakens as despair sets in.

 

_Perhaps..._

 

Master Luke would never allow her this, but in just a few minutes or perhaps less, that won’t matter. Nothing she does anymore will ever matter.

 

She tilts her chin, presenting her lips. This is the closest to consent that she will allow herself to give up. Then she glares up at him through her lashes and watches the indecision cross his pretty, scarred face.

 

He dips his head down, and her heart does a little flip in her chest when she thinks he’s about to kiss her. He doesn’t.

 

“Please,” he whispers against her ear instead.

 

It could mean anything, but when he takes the lobe in his ear and starts to gently nibble on it Rey knows what he really wants.

 

Please don’t leave this moment. Stay here with me.

 

“Say you’re sorry.”

 

“Rey.”

 

“Say it, Kylo,” she runs her hands up and down his chest. Finding the edge of the fabric and beginning to work her way under it to pull it off of him.

 

Okay. So they’re really going to do this? That’s… unbelievable. She must already be dead. It’s the only way.

 

“I’m sorry, Rey,” his chest trembles under her palms when she finds him. “I’m sorry for everything. I never, ever wanted to hurt you like this. This was the last thing that-”

 

Rey kisses him.

 

She kisses because he won’t stop talking and beating himself up for being the short-sighted, uncontrollable, absolute kriffing idiot that he is. She kisses him because what the hell why not? They were going to die. That part was inescapable. Now all they could change was how they spend their last few minutes of life.

 

So why the kriffing hell shouldn’t they have one final moment of pleasure before… before they become one with the Force?

 

She pulls back. Looks him in his eyes and they tell her all she needs to know.

 

“Yes.”

 

It’s all that she says. Kylo swallows, holding her head between his hands. Blinking and waiting for her to change her mind.

 

She doesn’t.

 

She leans up on her tiptoes, kissing him again, and it’s almost humbling how his lips tremble against her own.

 

*

 

Rey knew that Kylo wanted to take his time with her, but it was time they both knew they didn’t have.

 

She could feel his mounting frustration as they fumbled together. How the rising currents of his desire were raging against the rational part of his mind. His raw emotions leaked through their bond into her mind and made her restless and even more on edge than she had been before.

 

He tried to undress them both at the same time. Masking his more awkward pawing under the guise of a smooth caress. With every layer that came off, Kylo’s impatience only seemed to grow.

 

Of course it did, that was only natural. But what surprised Rey the most was how inspired her _own_ body was to his touch. _His_ touch. Kylo Ren’s. Her sworn and mortal enemy.

 

They could die any second, but… somehow it didn’t matter. Not when he peeled off her tunic and buried his face in her neck. He bit her hard, hard enough to welt her skin, and she cried out from the distracting pain of it.

 

Yes, pain. But so much pleasure as well. It pools inside her, making her forget herself.

 

_It’s alright, Rey. You’ve done everything that you could. Just give in and let go._

 

The words become her mantra. She repeats them over and over in her head, distancing herself from both the man who has situated himself between her legs and the looming rumbles in the metal coffin around them.

 

Kylo pulls back, looks at her with lust-dilated eyes, and she pants in his open mouth as she tries to recover.

 

This is not how she wanted her first… none of this is what she wanted. But that’s alright. Soon enough it won’t matter at all.

 

He sinks down again, dipping his head under her chin and marking the other side of her. A twin bruise that no one will ever get the chance to see so she won’t have to worry about how to hide it later on.

 

She whimpers, feeling how her body throbs just from that one single move. Her legs open wider for him, wrapping her ankles around his hips and pulling him flush against her center.

 

He pulls away get, even more shocked than before, as she yanks him back with the strength in her legs and rubs her hips in a figure eight against him. Despite the layers of inconvenient fabric separating them, she can tell exactly how ready they both are for this.

 

“Kiss me,” she whisper, flinching as the ship groans and shakes before quieting. “Kiss me and don’t think about it. We need to hurry.”

 

The words are mostly for her own benefit, but that doesn’t make them any less true. It could happen at any second, and that frees them both. Kylo buries both of his hands in her hair, tugging and jerking it free of the bands. The pain is relished. Glorious little tingles shooting through her as their lips slide and interlock.

 

She lets him dominate the kiss. Allows him to because, as reluctant as she is to admit it, he has no doubt far more experience than she does in this sort of thing. And whatever he is doing feels so very _right_.

 

Who know such joy and contentment could be found with bedding her enemy? And why now, of all the time and places?

 

Rey has never felt more beautiful and desired then when she shrugs out of her tunic and lifts her breast band off. There’s no time to be self conscious, and with his own body so close to her he becomes her shield. Then she shimmies her arms behind her while Kylo kisses her senseless.

 

He doesn’t notice at first. Too enamored with her lips and tongue. But he lets her pull one of her hands free from her hair and guide it down. His grip is so large he spans half her chest.

 

He looks down and openly gawks at her naked skin. _There_ comes the embarrassment. The sudden flush of red that colors her chest and when he lightly pulses his hand it makes her nipples harden and somehow that’s even worse than anything else. He can feel her becoming aroused. He shouldn't be able to do that. She shouldn’t give him that much power.

 

His hand shifts, letting off of her enough so that he can circle her nipple with his thumb. The skin puckers immediately and she bites back a whine.

 

He looks up to her face. Watches her bite her lip and squirm when he does it again.

 

In the distance, yet another component of the Falcon begins to fail. Was it another warning light or buzzer or who the hell knows what? She doesn’t care what it is. Doesn’t care about anything except the dark look in her sworn enemy’s eyes.

 

Kylo’s other arm wraps around her waist as he steps back, dragging her butt to the very edge of the console they had been using as a height equalizer. It puts her in a more vulnerable and frankly submissive position, but she doesn’t have time to complain when he dips his head low and takes a nipple into his mouth.

 

“Oh gods!” she shouts, bucking against him as sudden sparks of desire shoot through her.

 

He isn’t gentle, but she hadn’t expected him to be. Hadn’t asked for him to be. And even his teeth working at her now hypersensitive flesh can’t stop their freefall together into the inevitable.

 

His arm lets go of her, and she’s forced to wrap her arms around his neck and push against his shoulders to keep from tumbling down to the floor. She buries her fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling, as she lets him work his hips against her own.

 

Then his hand drifts down, so softly and gently that she should barely be able to feel it, but suddenly the ephemeral sensation dominates every part of her mind as it slips inside the top band of her pants.

 

She’s touched herself of course, but all the added adrenaline of the situation make this something else entirely. He growls against her skin, the low sound reverberating inside her chest, as he feels how much effect he’s had on her.

 

“Off,” he mumbles against her, and her head is reeling so much that it takes her a moment to catch up with his words.

 

She pushes against him for leverage and lifts her butt up just enough for him to yank her pants down and off of her. She kicks them somewhere into the great unknown and then he’s back on her, laving his tongue over one nipple and then the other while his hand plays between her legs.

 

There’s so much tension flowing through her. There always was when it came to the two of them; nothing they did together was ever halfway. But now, with the added excess of death and lust, Rey can feel herself building up to that apex already.

 

He slips a single finger inside her and she moans his name without realizing it. He loves that. He must because, even through the thickness of the fabric of his pants, she can feel him twitch against her inner thigh.

 

One finger becomes two and she quivers and burns. The ache caused by his hand is an odd mix of biting and dull, but as soon as she whines in protest his mouth leaves her breast to cover over her own lips.

 

She knows what he’s doing. He has to stretch her for the next part. She knows that but it’s all too real. Somehow this no longer feels like a fantasy. Or a nightmare.

 

The fingers crook inside her, wriggling and twisting, and she’s not sure that she likes that part until they touch some hidden spot that makes her sink her teeth down onto his tongue.

 

He likes that part too. Very much so, because he starts to roll his hips against her leg. It would be vulgar and crass in any other situation, but now the physical proof that _she’s_ the one doing this to him is what sends her over the edge.

 

Rey climaxes against his fingers, panting and moaning and finally gasping out his name again when she feels the tug of the need for him to hear her say it pulling along the edges of her mind.

 

He keeps her pleasure going, stroking her gently and not drawing away even when her legs crush around his wrist. His free hand, the one that had been wrapped around her and grabbing her ass without her paying it any mind, lets go of her skin. She feels him fumble with himself and she holds her breath when that can only mean he’s working himself free of his pants.

 

Now that she’s both relaxed and wired, he pushes a third finger inside. It hurts much more than the others, but she has far too much pride to whine or cry out.

 

She should stop this now. It would serve Kylo right. He’s the kriffing idiot who killed them both, she should be the only one who gets to cum. He doesn’t deserve the privilege at all.

 

But she makes no move to stop him as he pulls away from their kiss. Pushes down at her shoulders and encourages her to lie back. She holds herself up on her elbows and risks just the slightest, briefest glance down between their bodies.

 

Okay… that…

 

“Rey...”

 

His voice does things to her. Makes her flutter and grasp at his fingers inside her even if it hurts her. She nods then, closing her eyes and not letting herself acknowledge what she’s just agreed to.

 

He surprises her again, then by pushing his fingers into her that little bit more. It burns and hurts so much, but something inside of her is telling her to let him do this. To let him keep going because it likes where this is heading. She needs him to do this.

 

Deep inside of her, deeper than even he can reach, some part of her begins to throb and lift. She exhales then, deeply and shakily, and clenches her legs together to hold his hand in place when he tries to pull it away.

 

“Kylo, I...”

 

She can’t possibly articulate what she’s feeling, but he seems to understand. He leans over her, gently easing his hand out and she can feel her inner muscles fluttering in protest, wanting him to stay right where he was despite the pain of his actions.

 

He kisses her briefly and she finally allows her thighs to relax enough that he can slide his fingers out of her. Dimly she realizes that the pounding in her head is not just from her own racing heartbeat but from a new warning buzzer in the background. Now, in these final stages, the ship is going down so quickly. The poignant symbolism might just kill her before the engine explodes.

 

“We need to hurry,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes closed as he starts to bring his slick and glistening fingers up to his mouth.

 

That particular image is just too visceral for the moment. What she needs now instead is a fantasy. Some place to hide as this all comes to a head.

 

So that’s exactly what she gives herself. She pretends that she’s somewhere else. Pretends that they’re on a bed. A proper bed. And she’s nice and clean and calm and prepared for this. And her dream Kylo is gorgeous and his scar – or her scar, depending on how you look at it- has miraculously vanished. His face is as perfect and flawless as it was on that first pivotal moment when he took off his mask for her.

 

She really should pretend that he’s _someone_ else, but she doesn’t.

 

“It feels like such a long time ago,” she murmurs, distracting herself as he spreads and adjusts her legs.

 

“Rey?” he asks, seeking permission one more time.

 

She squeezes her eyes tighter, wrapping her fantasy around her. She whispers words of acceptance, pretending that they’re exchanges of love and devotion and not one last desperate grasp at life.

 

“Do you really want this, Rey?”

 

He looks like a prince in her mind. A prince who wants her to open her eyes, because he needs to see the reassurance in them. She can’t. It’s too much.

 

Her voice has to bridge the gap instead.

 

“Yes, Kylo,” she’s humming it into his ear, relishing in the soft coolness of the sheets beneath her. “I want this.”

 

And in this moment, both real and imaged, she truly does. Wants to give him a piece of herself before there’s nothing left. Wants to share something so special with another living soul before being faced with an eternity of nothingness.

 

Being entered doesn’t hurt as much as she would have expected. Maybe its because of his lips on her own, swallowing her muted cries, or how his hands are interlocked with hers despite the awkwardness of the angles.

 

Or maybe it’s because she may be here in body but her mind is a million miles away. Laying in a soft and perfect place and being made love to by a man that she loves and not by her sworn enemy.

 

The dream of it all makes her sigh. He must take that as encouragement, because he pushes in deeper. Part of her is in agony, and part is in disbelief. Feeling in numb and blind wonder how her body sucks him in, wanting more and more even as it becomes too much and she cries out in shallow whimpers from the sensation.

 

He’s pleading with her. Probably. She’s not paying attention. When he fills her so much like this, her mind spins in circles. She’s lightheaded and everything inside her is focuses on that one place where they are joined.

 

One final thrust of his hips, and he bottoms in her, pushing against that throbbing spot and making her feel whole in a way she’s never felt before.

 

“Rey-”

 

Her eyes fly open at her name and she pushes up off her elbows, reaching out and dragging his mouth over hers to silence him from whatever unbearable sweet nothing he was going to say. He gets the hint, thickheaded git that he is, and he falls silent. Holding still and feeling how she flutters against him as her body learns to accommodate him inside of it.

 

A hand snakes down between them, rubbing her at the apex of her legs, and _oh good gods_ if she almost doesn’t cum a second time just from that.

 

It’s building inside of her, more and more and more. She arches her back, subconsciously presenting her chest for him but he’s too enamored with her mouth to return to it like he had before. Still, the feeling of her nipples rasping against the fabric of his opened overcoat is highly pleasant, and she sighs again, willing herself to relax.

 

He starts to thrust and immediately her hips know what to do in response. Rocking against him, undulating in shapes. She pulls him even closer, even deeper, with her legs that were still wrapped around his hips.

 

Kylo sets a fast pace. Pounding into her and she’s amazed that she can take it so well. She likes it best when he thrusts all the way in and out. Massages the entire aching length of her.

 

She could cum like this so easily. Live like this forever with him inside of her and their mind intertwined and at peace.

 

How ironic is it that it took this- literally dying- to bring them to be at peace with each other? Maybe that’s what they needed all along.

 

Her whole world becomes him inside her. Their emotions pulling at each other through the bond. It comes as no surprise when they cum together, perfectly in sync with Kylo aggressively pinning her arms over her head while she arches her back and twitches underneath him.

 

The feeling of him tightening and changing within her keeps her pleasure strong. It feels so good. Essential. She can’t allow herself to stop until he’s fully drained and done with her.

 

In another world, another lifetime, she would be mortified. Horrified by what she just allowed to happen and the potential consequences of being so reckless.

 

But now, in the perfect little space of paradise that she’s built up in her head, everything is simply bliss and nothing more.

 

He collapses on top of her, finally still but still buried as deeply inside her as he can go. He kisses her and she allows it because it’s a sweet finish to something so very wrong. Rey wraps her arms around him, marveling at the differences between men and women, and feeling so very protective of him at that moment.

 

She can’t tell exactly when Kylo finishes with his own orgasm because he won’t stop kissing her. Sloppy, messy bites that slow down with the rhythm of his hips to a more softer and languid pace. She tries not to think about what they’ve just done. Tries not to think about anything at all.

 

It hurts when he pulls out of her, but then he kisses away her soft whine until the sting inside herself is nothing but a memory. Who the hell knew Kylo Ren could be so romantic? How seamlessly his mind flowed from stalking to fighting to lovemaking to _this_.

 

Mr. Romantic switches places with her, laying back so he can scoop her into his chest without asking if it’s what she wants. It is. They can’t have much time left, and is it so wrong to just want to be held during her last few moments of life? Even if it’s in the arms of her enemy.

 

Kylo kisses her temple and starts stroking her trembling back. She wraps her arms around her neck and buries her face into his sweaty skin. He smells familiar to her now. The scent of him oddly soothing despite the persistent and ever rising shrills of warning buzzers.

 

“How much longer?” she asks his throat. It can’t be much longer.

 

His hand slows. Shifts to pull her fully over him and hold her tight.

 

“Not long.”

 

She squeezes her eyes shut. Knows that he must feel her fresh tears rolling down his skin but he doesn’t comment. Holds her in reassuring silence while he does his best to comfort her. Rey wonders when was the last time he tried to _comfort_ anyone? Never, perhaps.

 

“Shhh...” he soothes and she knows how he can feel her emotions strung up tight.

 

A cold and mechanized _‘final warning, core explosion imminent’_ announcement sounds and she jumps under his touch. Whines against him and buries her face in deeper into his chest to hide. The hand on her back rubs her in circles.

 

At least it will be quick. Their death should be nearly instantaneous. The waiting is the hardest part, but at least they’re together for it.

 

“Kylo,” her voice is all but incoherent, “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

Rey doesn’t even care that this was all his fault. She just doesn’t want to die alone.

 

The hand on her back stops. Moves up to stroke her hair out of the side of her face that’s not burrowed down deep.

 

“Rey,” he whispers her name into her ear. It’s the only way she could hear him talk so softly over all the background panic. “I-”

 

A loud pop stops him. It’s immediately followed by a sudden and deafening roar.

 

She pulls her head up and kisses him in a mindless frenzy. He returns it with force, neither of them caring about the clinking of teeth or bruises on their lips that their frantic final goodbye is bringing.

 

He holds her face in his hands and she wraps her arms around his neck, sighing into his mouth.

 

This is okay. This is the way that it should be.

 

The explosion blasts through the room in the blink of an eye. A horrible roar, burning pain, light blasting behind tightly closed eyelids, and _heat_. So much heat. This must be what falling into the center of the sun feels like.

 

And then it’s over. They die.

 

…

 

…

 

...

 

Or… not?

 

Silence. Absolute silence fills the small space of the room.

 

Rey opens her eyes. Or at least she thinks that she opens her eyes. She feels her lids move, but she can’t see anything. Just pitch blackness. The absolute darkness of space.

 

Bruised lips pulls away from her own with a wet smack. She can feel Kylo’s weight all around her. He’s _heavy_. But if she was dead, she wouldn’t care that he’s so damned heavy.

 

“Kylo?” she whispers, reed-thin voice barely audible but still absolutely booming in contrast to the nothingness.

 

“Rey?”

 

He sounds as gone as she is. His weight shifts on top of her. Something touches her hair, seeking out her face. His fingertips sting excruciatingly on her skin. She feels like she’s gotten a terrible sunburn, so severe it must rival the worst that she’s ever had on Jakku.

 

“Are… are we alive?”

 

Silence. She reaches out with the Force. Feels his energy all around her, surrounding her as tightly as his body is.

 

He doesn’t feel dead. She doesn’t either.

 

He’s scanning her, she dimly realizes. Making sure that she’s okay before he even checks in on himself. She starts squirming under him. From the corner of her eye she can see stars out of the still intact rear viewport.

 

They’re not dead. They’re alive. But the engine is gone and there’s no power. They’re floating through space with absolutely no power.

 

“Get off me.”

 

She pushes at his shoulders. Ignoring the now sweet familiarity that his sweat and skin brings under her touch.

 

He seems reluctant to do so, but the moment between them has passed. She curls around herself when his weight and warmth leave her. She hears him fumble blindly in the dark before scoffing to himself. A pull of the Force instead and he activates his lightsaber which he had just summoned into his hand. The room fills with a fittingly grim, blood red glow.

 

“Rey?” he asks, “are you… you don’t seem happy.”

 

Happy? What the hell is there to be happy about? They just… no. Rey stops that line of thought in its tracks. She should be dead now. She shouldn’t have to have regrets.

 

“The ship is destroyed, Kylo.,” she growls, masking her mortification with annoyance. “ _All_ the power is gone. First, second, aux. Now, instead of dying immediately, we’re going to die a whole lot slower.”

 

“Rey, I...” his voice fades as he seems to realize their new situation. He falls silent as he begins to correct his carelessly opened pants and undershirt. It reminds her of how she’s the only one buck naked.

 

“Where are my clothes?” Dying with dignity has gone out the window, but at least she can be dressed as she freezes to death.

 

She calls for her own lightsaber but doesn’t activate it. Preferring instead to stay farther in the shadows until she can cover herself up.

 

“But I already saw you naked. What does it matter now?”

 

_Stay out of my head._

 

She pushes the though into his mind with no shortage of anger. He shrugs and sweeps the makeshift torch along the floor until he finds her tunic and the other parts of his own outfit.

 

They get dressed in awkward silence.

 

*

 

“Well isn’t that just fucking ironic?”

 

Rey glares at the front viewscreen. The planet that they had been orbiting at the start of their battle is now one hell of a lot closer. Kylo had dragged her to the cockpit to show it to her. The planet was _right there_. So close that if they’d had a working escape pod they could have stood a chance.

 

But alas, there were none. The surface so tantalizingly close to them was nothing more than a mirage of salvation.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Kylo hums.

 

Rey glares up at up. Shrugs off his attempts to wrap his arms around her from behind. Soon enough, she will have to allow his attempts at cuddles for the sharing of bodyheat, but right now she’s far too irritated with him to permit it.

 

“Why did you have to show me this, Kylo? This just makes it even worse. Not only are we dead in space and about to be dead _again_ , but this thing here-” she angrily gestures at the planet’s surface arching across the viewport, “this just adds insult to injury.”

 

“We can make it there,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

 

Now _that_ riles her up. Snaps her out of her ‘we’re doomed’ ennui long enough for her to slap the hands rubbing her shoulder away and spin around.

 

“How, Kylo? We can’t move. The Falcon is completely dead. We can’t even open up the cargo bay to jettison ourselves into space. Though that would probably be a hell of a lot quicker than the other alternative.”

 

He reaches out for her again. His emotions feel odd to her. Scattered and all over the place but lacking the fear that feels the situation calls for.

 

“Don’t be angry with me, Rey,” he says to her in a low whisper.

 

She scowls, suspicion rising. He tries to draw her close and again she pulls back. _Of course_ she’s going to be angry with him. This is entirely his fault from start to finish. Completely and utterly-

 

Except another possible meaning to his words suddenly hits her.

 

She activates her saber, bringing the glowing blade close to his face so she can see his expression. The wide-eyed look he’s giving her has nothing to do with the proximity to her weapon. She can sense that, just like she can sense his hope.

 

Hope.

 

_Hope._

 

Now, when everything is over and done and there’s nothing left, the heartless bastard in front of her dares to have _hope_.

 

“Kylo...” her breath seizes in her throat, chest tightening.

 

He… Her hand starts to tremble with rising rage. Kylo presses his lips together tightly, trying to bury the guilty frown of his mouth.

 

“Kylo,” she has to force the words out, her intuition sparking like flames in her mind. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

 

He steps back, retreating back into the shadows. Rey realizes that he’s deliberately moving out of slicing range from her lightsaber. That can only mean one thing: that he thinks she’s about to become very, very angry with him.

 

“Kylo!” she takes a step forward. His feet crunch backwards, crackling against the bits of debris lining the floor.

 

She hears his breath increase, or maybe that’s just her own. Her hand squeezes tighter around the hilt of her saber, readying herself to run him through if whatever he’s about to say isn’t to her liking.

 

“Rey… I have an escape pod on my shuttle.”

 

The words don’t permeate. Because they’re ugly lies and she can’t believe them.

 

“No.”

 

“Rey, I...”

 

She points the blade at him, illuminating him in a dim silhouette.

 

“Don’t lie about that, Kylo. It’s too cruel, even for you.”

 

His silhouette shifts from side to side. Rey’s breath fogs in front of her face. How much breathable air could be left on the Falcon? There could be twice as much if only one of them was living...

 

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would be angry.”

 

She gapes at it incomprehensibly. How is that even-

 

“Does it still work?”

 

He swallows. Even in the dim lighting, she can see him try to swallow down his nerves.

 

“I believe so, yes.”

 

Rey falls still and silent. Practicing the breathing exercises her Master had taught her.

 

“Then why...” no. She’s losing the battle. Her pulse is increasing, palms growing sweaty. She’s about to gut him. And he’s going to deserve it.

 

“Kylo...” her voice rattles and shakes. He activates his own lightsaber with a hiss, no doubt sensing the murderous nature of her thoughts. “Are you telling me that you knew we weren’t going to die and...”

 

And you fucked me anyhow? Rey can’t bring herself to say the words. She’d thought that they’d really had… losing your virginity under false pretenses, that’s a murder-worthy offense, isn’t it? Because if that’s what really happened-

 

“No, Rey. I wasn’t completely sure that the engine’s explosion would kill us both. It seemed highly likely. When it merely fizzled and we lived it was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.”

 

Wait. No. Rewind. If he had known that he had a working escape pod _before_ the whole engine-countdown-boinking nightmare…

 

“So you’re suicidal? Is that it?”

 

Because she can help him with that. This was the dirtiest, rottenest thing she could ever imagine anyone doing. You want to punch your own ticket, fine, but don’t you _dare_ bring anyone else down with you.

 

Kylo steps back, edging to the rear of the room but never dropping his defensive stance.

 

“I thought it was the only way we could be together.”

 

Silence.

 

He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Guilty, perhaps. But not the crawling on the floor, repenting on his knees, begging her for forgiveness that he should be doing right now.

 

So he fucked her and did it on purpose and was willing to let her die just because he… is that his idea of twisted romance? That they must go out together?

 

“Goodbye.”

 

She stomps forward, moving straight towards him. Kylo brings up his lightsaber to hold it diagonally across his body.

 

“Rey, let’s not-”

 

“You wanted to die, go ahead,” she shoves him out of her way with a push of the Force. “Shouldn’t take you too long. An hour or two. And then you’ll get your wish. _I_ , on the other hand,” she starts working her way down the ruined hallway with a resolute weight to her steps, “I, on the other hand, am leaving.”

 

She enters the starboard side docking ring where Kylo’s ship had so rudely forced its way aboard. Symbolism again. And then she testily slams the door shut behind her. Merely seconds later Kylo slices clean through it with his saber, but she pays him no attention.

 

She walks over to the closed hatch to his shuttle.

 

“Open it.”

 

She crosses her arms and waits.

 

“Rey, please… don’t be angry.”

 

Oh she’s well past anger. The moment Kylo places his palm over the doorlock and it slides open, she elbows him hard in his ribs and pushes him out of her way.

 

She steps inside his ship. It’s pitch dark as well. When it had docked, forcibly, it must have hooked itself up to the Falcon’s power grid and been damaged by the explosion every bit as badly. The escape pod, however, has a glowing green access light so it must have been on its own circuit.

 

Rey throws open the hatch and drops herself in to the tiny capsule. She tries to lock it behind her, buy Kylo grabs the edge and pulls it free of her hands.

 

“Rey.”

 

“Go back and die, Kylo. That’s what you wanted. Now leave me the hell alone and let me go.”

 

She tries to rip the door from him with the Force. He resists. Of course he does. And to her infinite fury he attempts to join her in the already claustrophobic space.

 

“We’re in this together, Rey. You can’t just leave me out here to die.”

 

Oh the irony. The bitter, bitter double-sided selfishness.

 

“Can, am, and will.”

 

She shoves at his chest, tempted to draw her lightsaber but that would be foolish. The capsule is so cramped she would inevitably damage something critical and _that_ level of idiocy is beneath her.

 

He closes the hatch behind him, sealing them both in the escape pod. The space is so tight that they’re practically embracing again.

 

When it becomes clear that she’s going to remain silent, stewing in caustic, immobilizing rage, he carefully snaps her into the security harness. The pod was only designed for one person so he’ll just have to stand and hope for the best.

 

With any luck, he’ll break his neck as they tumble through the atmosphere and crash land.

 

“Kylo.”

 

He turns on the single computer panel. The harsh glow of the lights burns her dark-adjusted eyes. She closes them tightly shut as she feels the pod begin to detach itself from the husk of his ship.

 

“Kylo. You will burn in hell for this. When you die, when _I kill you_ , there will be no ‘becoming one with the Force’. You will suffer for all eternity and I will forever take joy in that.”

 

A feeling of weightlessness. A beeping of sensors. A sensation of movement.

 

“What a lovely Lightsider sentiment.”

 

He kisses her forehead. Pulls away just far enough so she can’t bite him or headbutt him like she wants to.

 

The smooth departure is short lived. Already the rumbling pull of the atmosphere makes their escape pod begin to shake ominously.

 

Kylo wraps his arms around her. She doesn’t have any space to force him away. No, she needs to save her strength. As soon as they land, it’s go-time. It’s going to happen.

 

Because the only thing worse than losing your virginity to Kylo Ren was living after the deed was done.

 

But that’s fine. That’s perfectly alright.

 

As soon as they reach the surface – providing that they survive the crash down to it – Rey will kill him. Honestly kill him. Run her saber through his black little heart and give him the death he was so desperate for.

  
Then she’ll just have to lie through her teeth about it for the rest of her life. No big deal. Anything would be better than facing the truth, wouldn’t it?

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite back again since I wrote this about 2 months ago for Reylofest and realtime me is fiddlesticks deep in NaNoWriMo porn (fine, ‘erotica’, gotta be cool and use the lingo)…
> 
> This particular fic has a bit of a history of identity crisis. First it was intended to be a continuation of my Ties that Bind/ Take No Prisoners series but I nixed that idea because it’s going to be a long, long time before Rey and Kylo do the nasty in that ficverse. They need to work on occupying the same space without trying to kill each other first. THEN this story was a first draft of my other virginity-no-more fic At Least He’s Hot but it didn’t have the right notes or humor.
> 
> So, even though this story is a little all over the place, I hope it was okay anyhow? I make NO guarantees about continuing it with our happy couple once they crash planetside because I’ve got way too many WIPs as it is, but I’ll leave the option open for now.
> 
> \------  
> (much more than 5 minutes later...)
> 
> Quick update: I’m continuing this story over at [No Rest for the Wicked](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13101732/chapters/29974449) instead of as a second chapter here since this was for a compilation and was slightly non-canon to TLJ and I’m trying to get all canoned up. And my spellchecker’s telling me that’s not a word, but it’s wrong. Canoned totally is.


End file.
